At Least Once
by TheAddict4Dramatics
Summary: "He'd always thought that if this ever happened it would be in the middle of some blazing row where he'd pin her harshly against the nearest wall and ravish her – rough, quick, and angry. A pure release of tension. This was none of those things." Little Hayffie fluff set in CF on the eve of the Quell.
1. Chapter 1: Once

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me expect the mistakes as this is un-beta'd.**

 **Note: Takes places during Catching Fire. Whilst it's more bookverse in terms of the foreshadowing about Effie not coming to Thirteen, I'm stealing the scene from the movie in which Effie gives the boys their tokens and says goodbye to the children. This little drabble starts immediately after this.**

At Least Once

Chapter One - Once

"Katniss when you're in the area… remember who the _real_ enemy is."

Haymitch saw the confusion and, perhaps, anger too register on the girl's face. He couldn't afford to elaborate though. He'd probably already said too much. The walls had ears here – and surely everything they said, not matter how trivial, would be reported back to Snow himself.

It wasn't really goodbye. If all went well Haymitch would see both Katniss and Peeta again in a few days' time. But a lot can happen in a few days. And he had learnt to take nothing for granted. Besides, it was a few days that they would spend in an arena with at least a few other Victors trying to kill them.

Haymitch made his way into the living area and saw Effie standing with her back to him. Her shoulders were shaking; it was clear she was crying and trying to be quiet about it.

He wished she wouldn't. When she did things like that it made her seem so much more human – not the Capitol drone that was so easy to mock and overlook, easy to get a rise out of, easy to look at too. Nothing about her was easy at that moment in time, least of all his confused feelings at having to leave her behind soon enough. He'd told himself it was because he had known her for a long time but he knew it was more than that… he was worried for her and that sensation was entirely new. Besides the kids he'd always figured he had no one left to be worried about.

The bangle on his wrist suddenly felt tighter.

"Are you okay?"

His voice made her startle and she turned to look at him, hastily wiping at her eyes as if embarrassed to be caught crying. It was more likely she was expecting some angry rebuke from him about how crying wasn't going to help anything. He felt a little guilty that that would be her immediate assumption but then again she wouldn't be wrong – it had almost been his first reaction despite everything else.

Effie nodded her head. The action caused more tears to fall.

"It's not fair." She whispered shakily.

"No it's not." Haymitch agreed and then after a pause he added: "But there's nothing we can do about it now."

That was true in more ways than one. A lot of things were set in motion now that could not be undone. All he could do was sit and wait.

"Why do I feel as if I'm never going to see any of you again?" Her voice lacked all its usual confidence and brightness. She sounded utterly defeated.

He knew she knew something was going on. She had no idea what of course or who exactly was involved. But she had noticed all of his extra meetings, his sneaking's off in the middle of the night, not to mention his relative sobriety. She must have seen some of the whispered snatches of conversation between certain Mentors and Tributes too.

Katniss and Peeta seemed completely unaware but Effie was always smarter than he gave her credit for. They could use her in Thirteen. The children would listen to her if nothing else and she would have insight into the Capitol that might be useful. Haymitch thought he might bring it up with Plutarch again. Maybe he wouldn't shoot down the idea like he had done before.

"Effie…" He didn't know how to continue.

Effie stopped him from doing so anyway. She shook her head almost violently and tapped her ear with her finger. See – smart. She knew they were being listened too.

But the realisation made her behaviour that night even more unnerving. If she knew the walls had ears then declaring herself a team with District Tributes, crying over their fate and talking about the unfairness of it all was pretty anti-Capitol behaviour. She was walking a dangerous line.

"Big day tomorrow, you should get some rest." Haymitch told her softly. "I'm heading out for a bit, got a couple of late meetings with some potential sponsors."

The lie slipped so easily from his lips but he knew she would see right through it. She played along though, nodding her head as if he had already told about such meetings and was just reminding her now.

As he turned to leave she called him back. She walked over to him and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek. He could feel how much she was shaking and had the inexplicable desire to put his arms around her and pull her close to him. An instinctual need to comfort.

"Good luck Haymitch… with the sponsors I mean."

But he knew she didn't mean with the non-existent sponsors. Her words had a finality to them. She didn't know when everything was due to kick off. For all she knew they might try whatever they were planning before the Games even began. Perhaps she thought this was their goodbye too. He couldn't contradict her. Couldn't tell her that he was only popping out to try and sneak Finnick her bangle and would be back as soon as he could.

"Try and get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Effie offered him a small, sad smile in response and made her way to her bedroom.

/

Haymitch returned about an hour later. He had successfully managed to sneak the bangle to Finnick and explained how to utilise it correctly without being caught by anyone he shouldn't have been. He had officially done all that he could do. Though that knowledge was not doing much to soothe his growing apprehension.

The apartment was completely silent as he'd expected. It was so late even the Avox's had gone to bed. Before he knew what he was doing he found himself outside of Effie's bedroom door. It was strange, to say the least, as normally he would have headed straight for the liquor cabinet. It turned out his need to make sure she was alright was even stronger than his need for alcohol tonight and that was saying something.

He'd managed to speak to Plutarch whilst he'd been out. Effie wouldn't be coming to Thirteen with them. He knew that for sure now. Plutarch had once again assured him she would be safer in the Capitol. He hoped to God Plutarch was right.

Haymitch knocked quietly on the door, quiet enough not to wake her if she was already asleep. When no response came he assumed she must be just that so he snuck his head inside the room to make sure for himself. The bed, however, was empty and clearly had not been slept in. The room was bathed in low lighting coming from the direction of her bathroom. He entered the room fully and saw her standing at the bathroom sink washing her face.

In was only in that moment that he realised he had never seen her without a wig before, had never seen her natural blonde (like warm honey blonde) hair, or make-up-less face before. She looked younger, more vulnerable without her armour on. More human too. That was worse than when she was crying because she was so much more relatable, too relatable, and it made him think that maybe underneath it all she was just another person trying to survive this crazy world like he was. Thinking like that was dangerous. Thinking like that might make him do something stupid.

For the second time that night she startled when she saw him. He suddenly felt like an intruder.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to…" His mumbled explanation trailed off into nothingness. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

That earnt him a rare, genuine smile from her. The gesture did something foreign, and not entirely unpleasant, to his insides.

As she turned to face him he saw the exact moment she realised she didn't have her armour on either. Her hands shot to her hair in a vain attempt to cover it. He couldn't think why she'd want to. He was staring at it he knew but not because it was in anyway unattractive, quite the opposite, in fact he was thinking how it looked like it would be the softest thing he had ever touched.

"I'm fine thank you." Effie replied at last, her hand still on her hair. "You're back earlier than I expected." So she had thought he was going for good. At least she seemed pleased she had been mistaken in that. "Did the meeting with the sponsors go well?"

"Okay I think. We'll have to wait and see." Wasn't that the truth.

Effie nodded and then a silence, that wasn't altogether comfortable, settled around them. Haymitch couldn't take his eyes off of her. He was aware he was probably leering but he just couldn't help it. She wore a pale pink, silk robe, her skin was freshly scrubbed clean and the hair… he wasn't sure if he had ever wanted anyone as much as he did her at that moment.

That realisation hit him like a punch to gut and caused the words to escape from his mouth before he had the chance to stop them:

"Always knew you'd be beautiful underneath all that crap."

Effie blushed; actually blushed and moved the hand on her hair again as if trying to hide more of it. Haymitch had another urge to touch her hair.

"Stop it. I look hideous." She told him seriously.

Was he imagining it or had she just taken a step closer to him? Either way she felt awfully close then. So close he could smell her impossibly soft looking hair, smell the floral shampoo that told him she must have showered whilst he'd been out. Thinking about her in the shower was not helping him keep a lid on his current feelings.

"You really don't you know."

This time he did touch her hair. Just for a second he reached out to give it the lightest stroke. She watched him intently but made no move to back away.

"Goodnight Effie." He needed to leave her bedroom now or he might never find the resolve to go.

"Wait…"

As he went to walk away he felt her grip his arm just above the wrist, her long, fake nails digging into his skin slightly as a sign of her quiet desperation.

Haymitch turned back towards her and this time he definitely was not imaging her getting closer to him. She was leaning into him, tilting her face up towards him and kept darting her eyes between his eyes and his lips. She moved deliberately and slowly, giving him every opportunity to back away, to retreat to his room and never speak again of the weird thing that was happening between the two of them that night. He didn't think he could have left then even if he had wanted to.

The moment her lips stroked against his his eyes closed and he felt his body take over from his mind. His hands found her head as he held her to him and walked her back until she was against the wall. He then pressed the length of his body into hers. She felt like pure, molten silk beneath him. His tongue found its way inside her mouth slowly, almost lazily. There was an undeniable passion driving their movements but they were gentle too, almost tender and he was sure he had not kissed anyone like that in a long time, probably not since before his Games, since before they'd killed his girl.

When they finally pulled apart he kept her head in his hands as she rested her forehead against his.

"I had to know what that felt like. At least once." She confessed breathlessly.

He kissed her again in response to her words. It was a little harder that time but still much gentler than he would have ever believed. He'd always thought that if this ever happened it would be in the middle of some blazing row where he'd pin her harshly against the nearest wall and ravish her – rough, quick, and angry. A pure release of tension. This was none of those things.

Whilst lost in that thought he found she had guided his hands to the tie of the robe and was helping him undo it. His rough hands slid the silk from her shoulders until it pooled at her feet to reveal her underwear. It was simpler than he would have supposed. There was no fancy corset just a plain, royal blue, lace bra and panties set that emphasised what good shape she was in – a perfect mix of toned muscles and feminine curves.

Haymitch rested his head on her shoulder to catch his breath.

"Christ you really are beautiful." He breathed into the skin there.

It was the last thing either of them said for quite some time.

Afterwards he lay with her in his arms until she fell asleep. He never imagined they'd cuddle after either. As a general rule Haymitch didn't cuddle. But bizarrely enough he hadn't wanted to go anywhere and even more bizarre she hadn't wanted to talk, (for the first time ever) she'd been happy to lay there in silence and let his wandering fingers soothe her to sleep.

When he was sure he wouldn't disturb her he crept from her bed and collected his clothes, pausing to take one last look at her before he left the room.

Whatever he thought he'd been doing it certainly hadn't made the prospect of leaving her behind any easier. In fact it had made it ten times worse. Just when he'd thought it wasn't possible, he'd managed to find one more thing to hate Snow about.


	2. Chapter 2: Twice

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the mistakes as this is un-beta'd.**

 **Apparently my brain decided it wasn't done playing with this yet so happy reading!**

At Least Once

Chapter Two – Twice

Haymitch entered the room hesitantly, he had no idea what to expect. Plutarch had told him some things; that she had been in a bad way when they'd finally found her and that she was still drugged up to the eyeballs, it appeared to be the only way to keep her calm.

Effie didn't look up as he entered. She did not appear to be aware that he was there at all. She sat on the edge of her bed, the standard hospital gown hanging from her tiny, almost skeletal frame, staring at nothing in particular on the floor. She looked as if she had been to hell and was not yet back from it.

"Effie…" Haymitch said quietly as not to startle her. His own experience in life had left him with more than sufficient experience in being traumatised and he knew loud or unexpected noises could trigger a panic attack.

She began to look up at him slowly, her movements sluggish from all of the medication in her system. She stared at him blankly and for an awful second he thought she would not recognise him at all. But then, suddenly, her face lit up in animation and she sprung up from the bed with an energy that she did not look at all strong enough to possess.

"Haymitch!" She exclaimed, rushing for him.

He took an instinctive step back – surely she ran at him to attack him – to scream at him and hit him and accuse him of abandoning her to her appalling fate. He deserved it after all. But instead when she reached him she threw her arms around him and clung on for dear life.

"You're alive!" She breathed out against his ear in utter relief. "You're alive. They told me you were dead."

 _They_ presumably the guards at the Capitol prison she had been being kept in during the rebellion. The Rebel soldiers that guarded her room in the hospital may have hated her but they would not have told her that. Though they clearly hadn't told her anything to the contrary that may have soothed her. His arms wrapped around her minute body without him thinking about it. He just wanted to wrap her up and protect from all the things he had so clearly failed to protect her from already.

Just as they had settled in that position she jerked away from him to look him in the eye.

"The children?!" She demanded, fear so clearly written across her face.

"Alive." He confirmed and the relief the answer produced was just as clear. "Not quite okay but alive," he continued. "Are you… okay?" He asked her and immediately regretted it. A blind idiot could have seen she was far from okay.

She shrugged her shoulders in response and stepped backwards until she was sitting on the bed again. He supposed the action was supposed to look casual and offhand but it had the opposite effect – she seemed agitated and it was clear she couldn't stay standing for very long, her legs had practically given way from underneath her.

"I'm scared shitless." She suddenly confessed.

The swearing may have gone unnoticed by others. She was in a pretty dire situation, she had every right to swear about it. But he had worked with her for so long, had known her too well to let it pass him by. She had always hated vulgarity such as bad language, his own potty mouth driving her crazy over the years, thus the use of such language from her was entirely alarming to him. She was not same person she had been before the rebellion. But then, who was?

"I tell myself the guards outside my room are there to protect me but they're not are they?" She asked tearfully.

"It's Coin," Haymitch began to explain not really knowing how to continue but he did so anyway. "She's Thirteen's leader and the interim President of Panem. She's going after anyone that ever had anything to do with the Games. Any Gamemakers, stylists, escorts that survived the rebellion she wants to put on public trial."

He saw the realisation dawn on Effie's face and the tears fall from her eyes. He had to look away.

"I can't imagine how that will end." She answered sarcastically, wiping at her face. "Why are they prolonging the inevitable? Why don't they just execute us all now and save everybody the effort?"

"No!" Haymitch replied more viciously than he intended. He saw her flinch in surprise but continued. "That's not going to happen to you. I'm not going to let it happen."

She gave him an almost sympathetic look, she didn't believe it was possible to stop it and it was insane that she should be trying to comfort him in that moment.

"Look I need you to sign this." Haymitch said, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. This was the reason he had gone there in the first place. Talking it through with Coin had made no different at all. It was time to start taking action. "You're not going to understand it and you're not going to want to do it but I need you to trust me."

He silently begged she did not ask _why_ she should trust him. Lord knows what he would tell her after everything that had happened to her.

She looked at the document he had laid before her.

"Haymitch…" She said slowly and deliberately. He waited for the barrage of questions. He waited for the refusal. He waited for her to tell him to go fuck himself. But none of it came. Instead she said: "Are you sure?" He must have looked utterly confused because she shook her head. "No I get what you are doing, I get what this is, but are you sure?"

She was always smarter than he gave her credit for.

He took a pen from his pocket, leaned over and signed the marriage certificate by way of answer.

"Your turn." He told her as he passed her the pen.

"Thank you." She replied in the most sincere voice he had ever heard her employ. She signed her name. They were married.

He snatched the certificate from her as if she was about to change her mind and cross out her name. He shoved it back into his pocket and took something else out of it. It was the gold bangle Effie had given him before the Quarter Quell – a symbol of their unity as the team from District 12. It was probably the thing that had landed her in prison in the first place – an undisputable act that showed exactly whose side she was on.

He had given the bangle to Finnick to help get Katniss on side in the arena. It had somehow survived the Games and Finnick had given it back to him whilst they were in 13. It was only then that Haymitch had begun to realise how much she meant to him, how desperately he needed to find her when all of it was over and finally he had.

Haymitch placed the bangle around her wrist. He saw the recognition flash across her face but she did not comment.

"This will have to do instead of a ring for now," He told her gruffly and she nodded. "We're still a team, aren't we?" He didn't know why but he needed to hear her say it but he did. He needed them still to be on the same page. She nodded again. "Leave it with me, I'm going to look after you."

Haymitch leaned over to kiss the top of her head softly and left.

He returned to her room about an hour later clutching another new shiny certificate in his hand. As he entered the room Effie lay facing him asleep in bed. He didn't have to look at her long to conclude it was not a restful sleep. He doubted she had any restful sleep anymore.

He woke her as gently as he could but she still startled. Her movements were still slow and sluggish from the medication but she seemed to recognise him quicker than before. However, this time she did not smile when her brain processed who was in front of her, instead she frowned.

"What is it?" She asked, concerned.

It was as if she had been waiting for him to come back and tell her his plan had failed in some way. That Coin had taken one look at the signed marriage licence and had torn it to pieces. He supposed she had a right to be concerned, he himself hadn't been entirely convinced it was going to work. No one from the Districts had ever married a Capitol citizen before. They were the first.

"Nothing's wrong," he reassured her, reaching out to stroke the hair that had fallen onto her forehead. The gentleness of the movement shocked even him. He wanted to smother her in cotton wool and never let her out of his sight again. She visibly relaxed at his touch. "I've got something for you." He offered her the certificate.

"Are you trying to marry me all over again?" She joked, her voice still weak and cracking slightly.

He watched Effie read her signed and official pardon by Coin. He thought for a moment her muddled brain was having trouble comprehending what was before her as she appeared to have no reaction at all. She stayed deadly still staring at the paper. But then she did look up and he saw the streams of silent tears passing down her face.

"Thank you," She whispered. The same intense sincerity she had used earlier still shining in her voice. "Thank you so much."

He didn't know if he reached for her or if she reached for him but they were locked in a fierce embrace once again. She clung to the back of his District 13 standard issue shirt with a strength she shouldn't have possessed at all, considering the state she was in. When they at last pulled apart she frowned at him.

"What's the matter?" She asked as she reached forward with shaking hands to wipe away the tears on his own cheeks. It was only in that moment he realised he too had started crying.

"Nothing, nothing's the matter." He denied fiercely, embarrassed at being so openly vulnerable.

He couldn't tell her that he had only just grasped how _utterly_ relived he was that she going to be okay. He'd only just understood how much it would have destroyed him to watch her go on public trial, to watch her be executed. He'd only just realised how deeply he actually cared about her and how much he regretted leaving her behind. It was terrifying because he very much had something to lose now, and he vowed he would never allow himself to be weak in that way again after what they had done to his family and his girl. But he couldn't help it – he was in deep now.

Effie leant forward and kissed him, so soft it was barely there at all and yet somehow it was still perfect. The tiniest step forward in a very long road ahead. He was gagging for more – months of self-induced celibacy combined with the relief of winning a very drawn out war would do that to a person – but he did not push her for anymore. This had to be on her terms from now on, he understood that. She had a lot of healing to do.

"I had to know what that felt like," she told him quietly. "At least twice."

He smirked at her joke and she giggled and kissed him again, just as soft. They were both so broken, the kids were broken, the whole damn country was broken, but they were alive and that was enough for now.


End file.
